Something's Not Right
by The Lilac Bear
Summary: A Stucky story. Super over used prompt of Bucky starts to remember his old life. Bucky starts to have flashback dreams of his old life and needs to see Steve again. SPOILERS for Winter Soldier. AU where there is no Civil War.


**A/N: SO I know I should be writing chapters for my other fics right now… but I'm so in love with stucky that I had to do this. I know this s cliché and all… but I'm obsessed and this idea just hit me like a brick wall so here it is. AU no Civil War**

 **WARNINGS: spoilers and extreme amounts of fluff about to hit**

 **Sorry if it is OOC**

 **Disclaimer: sadly I don't own the hunks know as Captain America or Bucky… or the rest of the Avengers**

* * *

 **Bucky P.O.V.**

I rush through the darkened streets with groceries. The all night convenience store I left was thankfully empty; I couldn't risk anyone recognizing me. I know I should leave the greater New York area… and the U.S. but something is keeping me here. That man, my mission, something isn't right about him. I know I've seen him before but my memories are so scrambled I can't put the pieces together.

I reach the house I'm squatting in. It's in the no so good part of Brooklyn, but the house is okay for being abandoned. I managed to connect to the electricity grid by connecting to the building next to mine's system. The room is in disrepair but has a fridge, sofa, bathroom, and heating so I can't complain.

The greater part of the last two months has been me sleeping, because I need to heal from the injuries I sustained from my fight with my mission and because sleep seems to be when the memories are clearest. However, whenever I'm close to remembering pain or a nightmare wakes me up.

I look at my watch, 2:37 am. Now is as good of time as any to try and remember

* * *

My mission, my enemy, who I've just shot, is lifting the metal off of me. What kind of idiot would help the person who is trying to kill them? He could have just left me and escaped with no impact to his conscience, _he should have_. But, he sets me free.

"You know me" Pain blossoms in my head, he can't be telling the truth. "NO I DON'T!" I punch him hard.

But he just keeps talking, even if it's in pants the words hurt "Bucky, you've know me your whole life." I punch him again. "You're name is James Buchannan Barnes."

"SHUT UP" I explode and punch him again. WHY ISN'T HE FIGHTING BACK!

He's panting more now, looks like my attacks have made an impact. "I'm not going to fight you." He drops his shield, let's his shield fall out of the craft. That's wrong; there is something so inherently wrong with this. "You're my friend." How can he be so calm, I'm supposed to be _killing_ him.

"ARG" I tackle him, "You're my mission." Nothing more, nothing more! I start punching him "YOU'RE. MY. MISSION." I accentuate each word with a punch. I go back for one more punch, but something stops me.

He can get his last words through now, barely a whisper "Then finish it. Because I'm with you till the end of the line." There's no pain this time, just a sense of knowing and it frustrates me while calming me.

Metal falls from the ceiling, and he falls straight into the water. All of my being is telling me to go after him. I _need_ to save him; it's the only thing that matters. So I do.

* * *

A fuzzy scene is playing, the sounds muddled, but there is my mission, my friend, my Steve. I'm in some bar during the war. Which war… The Second Great War…

He comes to sit next to me. A smile so happy it makes my insides ignite. "So, are you ready to follow Captain America into battle?"

I smirk inwardly, "No," he looks at me with hurt and shock, "That little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb to run away from a fight, that's who I'm following." His smile takes my breath away.

 _who was too dumb to run away from a fight…_

* * *

I'm panicking in a dingy, one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. The fuzziness of the memory fades, the windows show that it's winter. A hacking coughing fit can be heard from the bedroom. My instincts want me to go into the room to check on the person, but I'm too busy making soup for said person.

Finally! The soup is done. I rush into the bedroom with the soup and a glass of water. There, on the bed is a small, sickly version of my mission. He's almost collapsed back on the headboard and covered in blankets, yet he shivers uncontrollably. I place the glass of water on the nightstand.

"Stevie, come on open your beautiful blue eyes for me." My mission, Stevie open his eyes to a half-lidded position. His eyes are glazed in sickness. My insides tighten with worry, this can't be happening. Dead middle of winter, barely enough money for food and rent, and my already unhealthy Steve has gotten pneumonia. I can't get medicine for him, we just don't have the money. With his asthma this could prove extremely deadly.

"B'cky, it's o'ky. I'm fine…" His head is drooping. I sit on the edge the bed, our bed, and pull his head onto my shoulder.

I place the soup in my lap and grab a spoonful, "Here Steve, you need to eat." His eyes blink open again and he looks like he wants to protest. But, we've been over this before and he dutifully lets me feed him the soup.

He's still shivering. I help him settle into a sleeping position and get under the covers with him. There is only one bed in the whole apartment, but even then it wouldn't bother us. We've had to share the same bed in the orphanage since we were nine. Besides, I love him. I gather him up in my arms, hoping he takes it as I'm trying to keep him warm and not that I need the reassurance he is alive and in my arms.

In his delirious state I hear him say "I lve you B'ck." And I try not to take it to heart.

He falls asleep and I kiss him on his forehead, "I love you, Stevie." I pray to God that he'll last through the night.

* * *

We are on an open field; snores can be heard from tents not too far away. Me, and a healthy version of Steve, are supposed to be keeping watch. We are laying back on the grass, his head on my shoulder, and looking at the stars. "So, Steve you really like that Peggy huh?" I try for a casual laugh, but even I don't believe the sound.

Steve gives me a withering look, but one that is also filled with a silent pain. "Buck, you know that if it was allowed it would be you and me. Forever. You're the one that I love and nothing is going to change that, till the end of the line remember?"

I nod and swallow my emotions. This shouldn't even bother me. I'm the one who was always bringing back girls and going on dates. This is the one girl he has shown any kind of emotions for, so really I shouldn't be complaining. He had to watch me all those times. But, this is for real. I never had a future with all those girls, but Peggy actually could want a future with Steve, a family. A family that is supposed to be mine…

"I know Steve, but… I just wish we could-" His weight is suddenly gone. I try to look at him but he is gone. I can't see him in the entire field and he can't have disappeared that fast!

"Steve. STEVE!"

* * *

I jerk awake. I need to see Steve, I need to find him. I need to know if that last dream was actually a memory.

I scramble off the bed. Where would he be? Two months ago I shot him, I hurt him. But, he has a team and they probably patched him up by now. Where would they be… Avenger's Tower.

That's not too far from here, just 20 miles. I start out of my house and into the street. I start sprinting. By dawn I can see the tower.

Getting past the security is surprisingly easy. That angers me, how could those people risk my Stevie with such lax security. But, maybe it's because I'm a trained spy assassin. Best give them the benefit of the doubt.

I run up all 80 flights of stairs to the top level, that's where they would be at. As I open the door I'm met with a bow, two guns, an ironman blaster, a hammer, and a look so pitifully hopeful that I want to cry. There are six men and one woman. Steve and an African-American man are standing in the back with a smaller, studious looking man. Steve has his shield, but it's not in a ready position, the African-American man has a gun, and the smaller man is observing. In the front are a blonde man with large muscles, a man crouching with a bow, a man with a metal hand that is about to blast me and the woman with a gun.

"Please, I know that I've done some not so good stuff but I'm getting my memory back and I just want to check on Steve." The four non-trained assassins waver. Steve just looks so conflicted that all I want to do is hug him. The African-American man lays a hand on Steve's shoulder and a wave of jealousy and relief rolls through me. Someone else was watching out for my Stevie… _someone else was watching out for MY Stevie_.

The red headed lady speaks, "Prove it".

My head gets a sharp pain and a flash of a roller coaster pops into my head. Coney Island. "Senior year, Steve managed to get us to graduate so at the end I made him skip school with me and we went to Coney Island. I made him ride the Cyclone, he threw up."

The others look at Steve for confirmation. He gives a tight lipped nod. The cocky one, who reminds me of someone, looks almost astonished. "Wait you're telling me the Captain Perfect started senior ditch day?" That raised four laughs, a sigh, and two confused looks.

All of them hesitantly lower their weapons and allow me to come into the room. I'm happy to say all of them gather protectively around Steve.

"S-so you're really back? Y-you remember." Steve hardly stutters, but I know he does when he is trying to hold back tears.

I try to give a small smile, but I haven't done it in so long that I don't know if it came across. Due to the watering of Steve's eyes I think it does. "Somewhat, I mean they are coming back. But.. I remember you and going on missions with our team, and a dingy apartment, and... nuns chasing me?"

Steve gives a watery chuckle, "Yeah, you and me were little heathens at that orphanage." His team startles at the word orphanage, they obviously didn't know, "Mostly you, but ya know I couldn't let you do something stupid alone." His accent is slipping through with his emotions.

"Oh, it was me? I seem to remember a little punk who couldn't keep himself out of trouble." That was the clincher for Steve. He rushed forward and gave me the biggest hug I could get, and I clung tight to him as well. I could hear "Jerk" being whispered in my ear.

We broke apart and I could see tears on his face, but a smile as well. His team was standing there awkwardly and the African-American man spoke. "so, um no offense, but what made you remember? Because the last time we saw you, you almost killed the Captain here."

I flinched and Steve sent a glare at the man, who in return also flinched. But, I understood, it was a valid question. "He gave up." That shocked the team enough to make them forget Steve's look. Apparently even in this time he doesn't know when to give up a fight. "He, he just stood there after the ship started falling. I punched him and punched him but he wouldn't fight back. He always fights back and because he didn't, I subconsciously knew something was incredibly wrong that I just started to remember. That and he said it. Our- our phrase."

The blonde man with the hammer looked completely confused, "so because the Captain did not fight and said some kind of code, you remembered. What words could ever hold such meaning?"

Steve and I shared a small smile, he began, "I'm with you…" and I happily finish "till the end of the line." And till the end of the line I will love him.

His smile brightens and like he could read my mind he kissed me on the cheek. I was shocked to say the least because that meant my dream, at least the beginning of it was real, but also because that is so illegal that I can't believe he just did that.

"Steve! You can't do that in public!" I give him a panicked glance and he laughs.

"Times have changed, sometimes for the betters." And I understand what he means, this is okay now. We are okay now.

* * *

 **A/N: So there it is. My One-shot plot bunny that I just couldn't let go. I hope you liked and please review!**


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